The author, John Marek, is a writer and executive director of the Anson Economic Development Partnership.
A couple of months ago, I related the story of how I fashioned a Halloween costume from Naugahyde, a synthetic “leather” manufactured by a company in my hometown. Apparently, my family wasn’t the only one talking advantage of the factory seconds. My high school classmate (and regular reader) Cathy Allen forwarded a picture of a pair of Naugahyde Christmas stockings her mother made for her and her brother back around the same time. Amazingly, Cathy still puts those stockings up every Christmas, which got me thinking about my own holiday craft projects, some of which stood the test of time better than others.
My earliest such project dates back to second grade, which would have been the Christmas of 1969. One day, Sister Rose Marie herded us down to the multipurpose room, a combination basketball court, auditorium, cafeteria and overflow seating area that connected my school to our church. Although rarely used because the school didn’t offer hot lunches, it also had a full commercial kitchen with a big-time commercial oven. Our task that day was to make Christmas cookie ornaments.
We mixed up a big batch of “dough.” I don’t recall the exact formulation, but it was more like Play-Doh than cookie dough in consistency. We added green food coloring to give it a festive holiday color, then rolled it out onto the stainless steel counter with a rolling pin. A Christmas tree-shaped cookie cutter pressed out each ornament, which we placed on a baking sheet in the oven before returning to our studies.
The next day, we returned to the kitchen to find a batch of rock-hard tree cookies. Our task for the second day was to cover them in shellac. I cannot imagine the courage it took to give two dozen 8-year-olds access to shellac and a brush, but I suppose that’s why nuns are known for their faith.
The next day, we came back to find the shellac had dried, and an eighth-inch hole had magically appeared near the top of each tree. It was either a Christmas miracle or Sister Rose Marie had exhausted her patience with the shellac and had our school custodian, Mr. Zam, drill the holes overnight. We threaded a small piece of red ribbon through the hole, tied it off and took the ornament home for our proud parents to put on the tree. And they did … every single year. As I said, I don’t recall exactly what was in that dough, but the Pentagon should have looked into it because it was neigh indestructible. Although I lost track once I moved out of the house after college, that Christmas cookie ornament was still going strong then, and for all I know it could still be packed away in some box somewhere.
Two years later, in fourth grade, my class undertook an equally memorable project, although a bit less successful from a longevity standpoint. We were sent home with a materials list that included a wire hanger and two rolls of green cellophane gift wrap. I often use this story to illustrate: a) the tribulations of rural living, and b) my tendency for procrastination. I waited until the last possible minute to mention to my parents that I needed those supplies. The wire hanger and red ribbon weren’t much of a problem, but the cellophane was a different story.
At that time, there were only two retail stores in my hometown that would have carried cellophane gift wrap, W.R. Thomas and Walford’s. Each of these was a “five and dime” similar in size and product mix to the Dollar Generals of today, which is to say, they did not have an extensive cellophane gift wrap section. With 30 kids all needing two rolls of green, I’m pretty sure the available inventory was depleted the day after the notice went home, but at least the kids who let their parents know about the requirement promptly had the opportunity to search the stores in the larger nearby towns of Sandusky or Fremont. I had to make do with what was left, two rolls of a yellowish-tan color.
The idea of the project was to bend the hanger into a circle, then cut the cellophane into strips an inch wide and 3 or 4 inches long and tie them to the hanger. Tie enough on and it starts to resemble a wreath. About half the class was working with green, the freakin’ early birds. Most of the rest were making do with red, which wasn’t half-bad, or blue, which was sort of okay. Those of us late to the party, however, were working with purple, pink or yellow. Oddly enough, the pink worked, but the purple pre-dated the “Nightmare Before Christmas” aesthetic and the yellow … it had the appearance of a once-beautiful wreath that had passed into the afterlife some months prior.
To my mother’s credit, she hung it on the front door anyway, and we actually made several new friends of the folks who stopped by to warn us our wreath was dead and presented a fire hazard. After the holidays, she didn’t put it in the attic along with the other decorations, saying she didn’t want it to get crushed. Instead, she hung it from a rafter in a corner of the basement, and that’s where it stayed for the next 10 years until it fell victim to one of her manic junk purges.
Whatever wreath you’re hanging or stocking you’re stuffing, have a Merry Christmas!